


New Year's Eve

by Zantedeschia



Series: On to West We Go [6]
Category: Xi You Ji | Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en
Genre: Dad Sanzang, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, God I love them too much..., New Year's Eve, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zantedeschia/pseuds/Zantedeschia
Summary: A smile was painted on his rosy lips, another year has passed.
Series: On to West We Go [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918984
Kudos: 9





	New Year's Eve

It was a cold night in Xi'an, winter wind whistling around the city. The streets below are busy and loud. Honking noises of vehicles, flashing lights of billboards and signs, and the early waves of fireworks and firecrackers. 

Sanzang watched the beloved city he had called home for centuries from his little balcony, tugging at the shawl draped around him. A smile was painted on his rosy lips, another year has passed.

He was frankly surprised he can still keep up with the passage of time, it had a way of going too fast, or was it too slow? He wasn't sure anymore, he had lost the ability to gauge long ago, when he had gained immortality. It seemed like the years had blurred, as they do when you have the promise of eternity before you.

He went back inside his flat. It was a quaint household, a weird mash between modern and old. Bookshelves lined one of the white walls of the living room, pale cream curtains dancing along the wind, a soft gray couch, a small kitchen with gray marble counters. He's room was far more messy than the rest of the flat(which, considering his standard of cleanliness, means there is probably a couple of crumpled paper laying on the floor), twin sized bed with beige sheets and too many pillows for one, his desk filled with journals and pressed flowers(courtesy of Wujing) neatly arranged in rows.

He doesn't have much visitors. Wujing would drop by once or twice a month, quietly reading a book beside him on the couch. Bailong would come every other month, earphones plugged in while gazing down at the streets. Bajie sometimes come and they discuss what they have been doing. And Wukong, that old monkey, rarely visits him, but he does check on him to "make sure he hasn't been kidnapped again.".

But every year, his disciples would always, without fail, visit him at New Year's eve.

It became their little tradition, they would come to the flat before midnight. Then they'll lounge in the living room, Bajie and Wukong playing video games while he with a reading Wujing and an uninterested Bailong settle on the couch. 

It was a moment of calmness and familiarity, feelings he had come to associate with the former demons. It was a soft and warm feeling, the one that he had known since their journey west. The feeling of safety and security. The feeling of coming home. 

He let his fingers run over the bookshelves that housed some of Wujing's favorite books. He hadn't gotten around reading them yet, he hadn't even sorted the books he had bought for the youngest. 

With a sigh, he went to fetch up the books he had set on the little coffee table on the living room, almost knocking over the box of video games he kept for Wukong and Bajie. He chuckled, remembering the two's competitive shouting. 

He picked up the books and arranged them on the bookshelves, careful not to squish the records Bailong gifted him. He doesn't play them, but he still keeps them anyway.

He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight, and they haven't showed up yet. He fiddled with his finger. They haven't missed a year yet, he knows they're probably on their way so he'll just wait...

And as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. An instant smile graced his face, his eyes twinkling with happiness. He went and open the door and he was met with four familiar faces, all having masks that hide their grins. 

"Happy New Year, Master."

Outside, the night sky was painted with flasing lights.


End file.
